Good Times, Good Times

It was a good weekend. I had gotten a message from Jess the Saturday before last, telling me that she was coming into NYC for work from the 6th to the 10th, and, wonder of wonders, her boss told her she could come to CT for the weekend and fly back to the office Monday morning. Woo hoo!

She got in on the Metro-North Saturday afternoon and gave me a buzz. I drove a whole 1/2 mile to her mom's house where she, Tara, and I stuffed ourselves with Marie's pasta and meatballs. We drank copious amounts of wine, bullshat, and ended the evening feeling SO Golden Girls after Marie (Jess's mom) invited the mother of an old friend from elementary school over to chew the fat and catch up on gossip. After ranting about taxes, real estate prices, and the ever-increasing gas prices, I called it a night and left Jess to defend for herself (sorry, hon!).

Sunday evening, the lot of us (Lea, Jen, Jess, Tara, and I) ventured on over to Archie Moore's for a few drinks. There was no herd that evening (I guess Archie's has been slow), so we got to pick pretty much any table on the patio we wanted. We decided to steer clear of the birthday party that was going on in the back corner and settled ourselves in at a table in the corner opposite the little shindig.

We ordered a round from our less-than-charming waiter (who obviously thought muttering snide comments under his breath or repeating the drink order back in a haughty and accusing tone, i.e. "I'll have a Jack and Coke with a lime, little ice" repeated back in the manner of "OK, you're the lesbian at the table; which one is your bitch?" is a pleaser with the ladies). We drank and laughed and ate and laughed and snapped some pictures and drank and laughed some more. Good times, good times.